"Mr. ’” “I have no choice,” Anna declared. K-kimble, sir,’ stammered the lad. She had treated him badly; she had hurt him and her aunt; she had done wrong by their standards, and she would never persuade them that she had done right. “MY DEAR MISS PELLISSIER,— “To-morrow the six months will be up. Good-bye. Then a ride to London on horseback.
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